


don't hold my hands accountable (they're young and dumb)

by anythings



Category: Saved By the Bell (TV)
Genre: Feelings, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Tutoring, know-it-all siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9778127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythings/pseuds/anythings
Summary: a short fic where books aren't the only thing laid out on the table (feelings, too).





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for my cringeworthy attempt at writing zack :/

"Is Zack coming over?" 

Slater comes out of his studying trance. His sister stands at the doorway – dressed in some jeans and an adidas windbreaker that he remembers buying for _himself_ three months ago and only seeing now. J.B loves to rile him up and when she realised he hated surprises, she's been milking it since. From when she got him a well-disguised Jack in the Box for his thirteenth birthday to when she decided she hated boarding school and wanted to come to _his_ school.

He manages to contain himself. He hates surprises and she's well aware of that. 

He slides a hand through his morning hair. It's pre-gelled, pre-styled and rests flat against his forehead. 

"Who's asking?" Slater replies, J.B promptly rolls her eyes and enters deeper to his room. "Take my windbreaker off."

"It's so comfy, though! Smells like teenage boy, sweaty clothes and poor style choices." J.B replies easily, dropping her weight on his bed.

He winces. He hates his sister.

"'Course you'd recognise that smell. It's the one you've got right now - considering you are wearing it," Slater sneers, nodding at his windbreaker tucked into her jeans.

J.B glanced down, cheeks heating up because she was caught. "Shut up! It looks nicer on me, anyways."

"I always wanted another sibling ... or a girlfriend so we can hate you together."

"So rude! I'd say I want a boyfriend like that, too but I'm 70% sure Zack doesn't hate you."

"Get out of my room!"

 _Thump_. It's his french textbook and slams against her left rib before dropping unceremoniously on the floor. He grins to himself (here's to for hoping she bruises).

"Ow! You've got terrible aim, dude. Maybe that's why the basketball team dropped you, huh?"

"I _left_ the basketball team."

"Whatever you say," J.B replied, grinning evilly. 

"You two better cut it out! It's literally 8 in the morning!" Their father sticks his head in Slater's room, eyeing the teenagers wearily.

J.B's smile switches to something angelic and Slater hates her even more. "Sure thing, dad!" Their mom nods then proceeds to leave, Slater's gaze goes back to his government textbook. "So, is Zack coming over today?"

"Ugh," Slater groaned, slumping to his chair. He knew she'd keep asking until he gave her a suitable answer. If he didn't answer, she would ask Zack at school and the dweeb would answer easily enough. He loved any chance to talk to J.B (much to Slater's dismay). "Yes."

"What was that?" J.B hummed, her fringe bouncing as she shot up.

" _Yes_." Slater repeated louder than before. 

J.B. was a ball of excitement after that. She literally bounced out of his room and down the stairs to get her cereal. He heard their dad telling her to calm down from the stairwell (his father's voice was loud, domineering but that never fazed J.B.) as she sang along to some Madonna song that Slater didn't know.

Slater and J.B were making their walk to school, post-breakfast and post-bickering. It wasn't too long (half an hour, tops) of a walk though Lisa usually dropped them off at school. Unlike Slater, she hadn't failed her driving test but he's almost positive she manipulated the older man. It was a Friday, though. So, Lisa had her morning piano lessons that dragged her out of her house almost an hour earlier than normal. 

He doesn't mind the walk, though. 

It gives him a minute to chat to his sister, calm his nerves before his 9 am ap government test that he hadn't actually prepared for. He's at school and splitting up with J.B. Immediately – her friends pull her towards her class and Slater heads in the other direction for his locker, nodding at familiar faces along the way.

An hour and a half later and the test went better than planned. (Briefly scanning his notes and reading the evening paper wasn't a bad idea, after all.)

After the test, his day falls to its usual routine. He falls asleep in his English class, causes a mild explosion in his practical chemistry class, pisses off Kelly and Jessie during lunch at their usual spot then gets a lecture from the principal for fucking about in the halls with some girl by her locker when he was meant to be in his Economics class. 

He doesn't mind the routine. It does mean that he doesn't see Zack much but their Friday's rarely coincide. 

Zack's got track training in the morning, his language and music history electives in the afternoon, he usually spends Friday lunch with the dudes from the basketball team at some pizza joint, then there's his hour maths class that Slater's not even slightly envious of and more track practice (as if the morning one wasn't enough).

It's nothing new for the sports kids. Their sport almost _always_ take over their high school lives, leaving them aching and struggling to keep up with schoolwork but it's their choice, after all. Slater doesn't know who he'd be if he ever quit wrestling though the thought has floated through his head more often than not. 

Zack's good at school, though. He's always handled the pressure quite well.

. . . Well, Slater isn't so sure how accurate that is. If Zack handled school as well as he liked everyone to believe, he wouldn't be borderline failing history or need tutoring in said class. 

Slater wonders if Zack would have told him without their teacher intervening or suffered in silence. He'd put his money on the latter, it wouldn't be a first.

"Mr Slater?" His teacher calls.

Slater hummed. He breaks from his reverie, glancing at his notes then to the clock.

 _Two minutes left._

"Are you going to answer the question?"

Lisa muttered the answer under her breathe.

"Yes, sir. There is a link between inflation and unemployment, the average seemed to rise after the Vietnam war but has steadily dropped in recent years. Especially in California," Slater spews information from the info graphic ahead.

"Right." Their teacher grumbled. 

Slater's never been great at Economics. He finds it weird considering he's in honors government but he does it for the extra scores and not much else. Their teacher drones for the remaining time about homework and the experiment write-ups that no one ever does.

He's at his locker, almost ready to head home when a body leans against his, a blond tuft of hair resting on his shoulder and a hand falling to his waist. 

It's Zack, which eases his rigid form and he relaxes into the embrace. 

It was quite rare for Zack to be ... _affectionate_ with Slater especially in the hallway, their moments were usually tucked away in the privacy of empty changing rooms, outside classes when the only ones loitering is them or empty practical labs — point is, they were alone. So Slater goes rigid again when Zack hums into his neck because school had only closed fifteen minutes ago and they were most definitely not alone.

"What are you doing?" Slater asked, voice rumbling in the silence.

"I haven't seen you all day. I kinda missed ya, A.C."

"You're annoying, we rarely ever see on Fridays and there are people around." Slater reminded his friend yet he made no move to shrug him off like Zack has seen him do to girls who get too close before. "Get off me, you are like a grown child."

A pleased smile fell to Zack's lips. "So mean, Slater. Absolutely cruel," Zack said, changing the initialism of Slater's name. He didn't get time to react (though he knew it was coming) when Slater sharply jabbed his elbow below his rib cage that forces him off Slater and staggering back. "Ouch!"

"You deserve that," Slater casually adds then slams his locker shut and turns to back his friend (his unnecessarily annoying, terribly obnoxious, adorably pouting friend).

"I know." Zack admits sadly before quickly recovering, his eyes with their usual happy glint. "Are we still up for tonight?"

"Yeah, sure. You trying to bail on me, Morris?"

"Nope," Zack replied quickly, the two exchange their complicated handshake (that took a lot of prep to master but still looks really fucking cool) "I'd never bail on you. You know I really appreciate this, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, preppy. Just bring your textbook ... and maybe some snacks." Slater replied, dimples poking out.

"How's In-N-Out sound?"

"Ugh, sounds perfect. Screech and the girls dragged me to The Max for lunch but I wasn't really hungry."

"You haven't eaten all day?"

Slater shrugged. 

"You're so damn lucky I've got training. I would have hitched us a ride there now or someplace healthier."

"Like you can afford eating healthy."

"Who says I'd pay for you?"

"Dude, if you're going to drag me off to a date then at least do it right," Slater snorted.

Zack's reply is caught off when Lisa appears from around the corner, books in hand and Screech in tow. 

Slater grins. Two could play at the game of mindless flirting, he thought to himself.

Screech lights up when he sees Zack and he's bounding over to his friend with more zeal than probably necessary. Lisa moves to Slater, after rolling her eyes dramatically at Screech, the latter throwing a hand over her shoulder and pulling her close.

"Thanks for saving my ass in Economics."

"You'd be lost without me," Lisa mocked, leaning up and pressing a kiss on Slater's cheek.

He scrunches his nose at her words and actions. It's almost like J.B. kissing him, it feels all kinda of wrong. 

"Not lost but definitely in detention." Slater replies, an easy grin on his lips.

His gaze shifts to Zack and their eyes almost meet but not quite. Slater frowns to himself for a second before Lisa is urging them to go. He agrees, nodding a goodbye at Screech then pausing when Zack turns to leave.

"I'll see you tonight?" Slater called after his friend.

"Yeah, bro," Zack waves, already rounding the corner heading for the gym. Screech glances between Slater's confused form and Zack's retreating one before bolting after the latter (he always did play favourites).

"Well, _fuck me_. What was that about?" Slater mutters to himself, almost forgetting his friend underneath his arm.

"I think you made him jealous."

"Jealous?"

"You really are clueless, huh? It's a good thing you're a looker, Slater." Lisa speaks after some beats, untucking herself from his hold and beelining for her car.

" _Hey_!" Slater calls, indignant.

&

"So, you've got your textbook?"

Slater leads Zack to up the stairs. His room is cluttered, clothes draped on his dresser, a stack of books scattered by his bedside table, not to mention the vinyls leaning against his side table that's got his record player on top. He's got all sorts of pictures and memories adorning his room from his misadventures in Europe to a framed picture of his friends from his last school.

It was almost six and the duo still had Slater's house to themselves. Zack got there much earlier but he came bearing In-N-Out and weed then there was an airing of Terminator 2: Judgement Day that kinda took priority.

So, three hours and bleary eyes later, they finally decided to buckle down and do some studying.

Zack beelines for the record player, flicking through Slater's collection then humming to himself as he slips a Beastie Boys vinyl on.

"Do we have to study, Slater?"

"I mean, that's kinda the only reason you're here." Slater retorts, folding his arms.

Zack mumbles to himself before tilting his head up, chewing down on his lower lip. "Can I have a hug?"

Slater feels the wind leave him. Zack never asks, just does. A part of him wants to say no, for a laugh but he's opening his arms and closing the space between them.

Zack squeezes him – his hands take place on Slater's waist and he drops his head on Slater's shoulder (for a second, Slater thinks he feels his lips ghost the base of his neck) and it's tight, almost suffocating. Slater's brows furrow and he can't ponder on the ghost of a kiss because he knows something's wrong.

"Hey, are you alright?" Slater asks, voice soft.

"Slater, I. I am not just failing history. I've been averaging a C plus in physics and they want to move me out of the ap class to honours 'cos I'll struggle less. I mean, at college I want to study Music Theory but I need a damn science and ... and I didn't even want to be in fucking AP physics! I'll look like such an idiot if I get moved down. I'm so —"

"You're averaging a C plus and they want to kick you out?! What the fuck." Slater repeated, genuinely confused. "Look, Zack – you are doing fine, basketball season just rounded up and you're about to enter a nationwide track competition so that's probably why you're struggling, don't be so hard on yourself."

"I don't know who I'm kidding. I will never study Music Theory if I don't get my shit together, if I can't balance this. Yale won't even do a double take when they reject me. I'm trying so hard, I. Fuck."

"Zack, _Zack_. Stop saying these things." Slater started but Zack interjected.

"But it's the truth! Half the school thinks I'm a stupid jock that breathes to fuck girls, break their hearts and can't really tell his right from his left."

"Who cares?! Literally, who cares what anyone thinks?"

"I do! Okay? I care and I know I shouldn't! This is high school, we're all a little dumb so tell me why I can't stop caring?" 

Zack's breathing comes in short and shallow puffs, almost like the conversation is draining him. Slater sighs a deep breath, he's never seen Zack like this and he's known him for more than two years.

"Hey, look at me." Slater starts, pulling back from the hug then leaning his forehead against Zack's to get his attention. "You aren't failing, alright? You're going through a hard time and that's normal but d'you know how people get out of slumps?"

Zack shakes his head.

"They let their friends in. I can tell you're hurting and it really sucks that you're just opening up to me. I'm here, for you."

"I'm —" Zack's words are interrupted by Slater. He can tell Zack's about to apologise and he can't stand that.

"You know what else they do? Get drunk _buuut_ my dad hid his stash somewhere else and he's inventorying it 'cos he caught J.B. with beer."

Zack chuckles. A pride flutter floats through Slater because he made his friend smile. He pulls his friend in for another hug, it's shorter and less intense but when Zack pulls away, his blue eyes have got their happy glint. 

And that's enough for Slater.

"Alright, let's get some work done. A D grade is not great but we can definitely fix it."

An hour in, the Beastie Boys album finished and Slater put on Aerosmith. Zack's leaning on Slater's shoulder while the latter explains the different implications of the Warsaw Pact to him. They are on Slater's bed and Zack can feel himself falling asleep but he's trying his best to stay awake for Slater.

"So the Warsaw Pact was formed between what countries?"

"Albania, Poland, Hungary, East Germany, Romania and ... the Soviet Union," Zack answered, stifling a yawn.

"Wanna take a break?"

Zack nods, allowing a content sigh to fall from his lips. "Modern European History is so boring."

"Ain't that some shit," Slater said. 

"Anyone ever tell you your voice is really soothing?"

Slater nods, "Jennifer."

A few seconds pass. "Do you miss her?"

"Sometimes but I've got pretty solid friends."

"Jessie still hates your guts," Zack mumbles. Slater shrugs in response, softly not to bother Zack. "Well, their loss. You're a cool dude."

"Thanks." Slater mumbles, leaning his head on top of Zack's then throwing a hand around the other to pull him close.

The two stay like that for some seconds. It's not a song that Zack recognises but before he can stop himself, he's leaning forward and pressing his lips to the base of Slater's jaw. It's uncertain, hesitant and soft. It's unlike Zack to be so cautious with a kiss but this Slater – and there's a fifty percent chance he's just ruined their friendship with the kiss. He wouldn't care if it was anyone besides Slater.

So what feels like hours pass before Slater hums, Zack lets a breath he didn't know he was holding out. Slater glances at his friend, unsure what to do.

"Zack?"

"You know when Lisa kissed you today, I got so irritated and _I_ couldn't figure out why 'cos she does that to both of us but then," Zack huffs, eyes moving languidly over Slater. "I realised it was because I couldn't do that to you – not without us getting weird looks and rumours spreading like a fucking wildfire."

Slater falters because Zack is right. For juniors, they are pretty popular and a lot of attention (and pressure) constantly surrounds them and their friends. It used to make Slater quite uncomfortable but he knows that if Zack were to plant a big, wet kiss on Slater's cheek like Lisa had — well, damn, the rumours would blow the roof.

He's pulled from his thought track when the other moves up, drawing a trail of light kisses from Slater's defined jaw to the corner of his lips. His head tilts up and he sighs, watching Zack through drooping lids as his fingers move to his waist and squeeze. Zack's hovering over him, silently asking for permission to kiss him with this softness in his eyes that causes something to stir deep in Slater. Slater closes the space between them, his lips against Zack's.

It's soft and warm and makes Slater feel like he's thirteen again. It's everything a first kiss should feel like and then some. Zack's fingers are in Slater's curls, while Slater's hand has settled on the others hip. It's easy to fall into each other and when Slater's tongue swipes against Zack's lower lip, a small but pleased groan falls from the back of Zack's throat as their kiss deepens. 

It's slow, confusing and feels a little weird.

But it's what they wanted.

What they needed. 

He allows Slater to lead him – he doesn't mind, at all. How can he when Slater pulls him over his thighs, causing Zack to straddle him. Hands are exploring each other and their kiss only slows down when either of them need a breathe. Zack tastes like strawberries and a little like weed but Slater doesn't get a chance to consider this when a low moan falls between them. It's almost like that prompts Slater because he stops revelling in the taste of the other and sweeps his tongue inside for possession, shifting the pace of the kiss from innocent and insecure to something more passionate, more fervent.

A kiss that Zack has never experienced before. Girls usually want him to take control but not Slater, he leads Zack and takes over without a missed beat and that's all Zack wants.

An unsavoury image of Slater pining him against the bed with his hands above his head, his head tipped back as Slater kisses down exposed skin and completely dominating him enters his head and he moans — it's louder than the last and Zack should feel gross with himself (it's not like he hasn't pictured it before, Slater isn't uncommon in his late night fantasies when he's alone and slick with sweat but he's never done it with Slater right there) but all he feels is himself growing hard.

Slater's lips pull back and he moves to Zack's jaw, peppering kisses along as his hand dips down to the centre of Zack's jeans, causing a satisfied whimper to fall from his lips. It's almost too much for Zack and he pulls lightly at the nape of Slater's hair. 

"Slater! I'm home!"

J.B. voice pulls them from each other. Zack shoots to the foot of the bed, grabbing his history textbook to hide his bulge.

Well, fuck.

"Yeah?" Slater calls, voice croaking, curls in disarray and lips puffy. 

(Zack's a little smug he caused that.)

J.B. enters the room. A dazzling grin on her features that reminds Zack too much of Slater. "Hey Zack!"

"J.B., how are ya?" His voice breathless as he tries to adjust himself.

J.B. assesses the situation. Zack's on the other side of the bed, chest beating quick and a textbook balanced upside down on his lap while Slater looks distinctly like he's just been kissed, no, ravaged. It's rare for Slater to bring girls to his room — J.B. knows that Slater's flings never get past the den when her brother brings them home but this is Zack, she knows he's more than a fling. 

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Yeah."

"Yes," Slater and Zack glance at each other. 

J.B. snorts to herself — it's about fucking time they got rid of their sexual tension, she thinks. 

"I'll leave you two to it, then. See ya," J.B. announces and filters out of the room, manicured fingers raising in a wave. It's uncanny for her to be so easy so she throws over her shoulder, "use a condom, Morris! Slater's probably a walking STD!"

Slater follows behind, twisting the door shut and turning to Zack – not bothering to acknowledge his sisters words or Zack's snort. "You're gonna get me in trouble, preppy."

Zack rises, textbook discarded. Slater meets him halfway, wrapping his arm around the blonde and leading him back to the bed. Zack's falls on the bed and Slater is on top of him in seconds, their face inches apart and Zack's cheek heating up from anticipation. 

He breaks the silence, voice carrying an innocent lilt. "Gonna do something about it?"

It's almost too much for Slater when he palms Zack over his jeans and the others face twist in an unreadable expression of pleasure. Slater hums into the dimly lit room, his hips replacing his hand as he grinds against the other, their lips still hovering while Slater takes in the pull of Zack's brows and the little circle his lips formed. 

"I wanna see you coming undone."

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  to _mel_ ;  
> thank you for inspiring then pushing me to complete my first fic (one shot? same difference).


End file.
